


5 times Arthur Kirkland’s radio played on throughout the night, featuring top tier 80s music and...The Beatles

by SpecsWritesStuff



Category: Axis Powers Hetalia, Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: :), Human auuuuuu, M/M, al and Matt are just babies when you see them, had fun with this one lads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 20:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20180557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpecsWritesStuff/pseuds/SpecsWritesStuff
Summary: Arthur has a little radio that he received from his father at a young age. It’s blue and has seen many things but most importantly, it somehow always stays on (until Arthur’s brother make him turn it off). Here’s a few short drabbles about the life of this radio and the English lad who owns it growing up.





	1. July 5th, 1983

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited, forgive my errors or possible inconsistencies because I am, sadly, not from the 80s so some things may be very un-80s-sounding. Cheers!

The power was out. The English suburbs were being abused by the pelting rain and two power lines had fallen down. 

Francis had collected his younger sister and ran across the street to Arthur’s house, becoming soaked in the process, as the storm got worse. His parents were at work and Angelique was freaking out. 

Mrs. Kirkland never worked on Wednesday’s so she was there to monitor her six boys and the Bonnefoy children. 

Candles were lit all over the dark kitchen, the younger boys roughhousing on the living room floor. Arthur sat at the kitchen table, squinting at his algebra homework as Francis was brought into the house 

“Look at you! You’re gonna catch a cold, so are you, Angelique! Here, stay right there, I’ll get some towels and a change of clothes. Arthur! Go get the Bonnefoys some sweaters, love, they’re gonna freeze their behinds off!” Arthur nodded along and went to his room to find something for them to wear. Francis always told Arthur how ugly some of his sweaters were so he took the time to find one that Francis could tolerate. He picked out a pair of pajama pants that looked like they’d fit his friend, frowning when he couldn’t find any small enough for his sister. Arthur snuck into Peter’s room, grabbing a pair of firetruck pajama pants that looked small enough for Angelique. 

Francis accepted the sweater, only making a face of distaste without commenting, and his sister bounced around excitedly “I love firetrucks!” 

Angelique played with Peter all the time so they went off to play with LEGO’s together in the basement. Arthur’s older brothers kept yelling at the twins to quit wrestling around and his mum was attempting to make some sort of a dinner without power. It was quite loud now that so many people were in one space so Arthur tugged Francis along to his shared room, closing the door behind him 

“Ugh...Sorry ‘bout all them...” Arthur sat on his bed, picking at a hole in the knee of his jeans 

“It’s alright, thanks for letting me wear your clothes. They’re quite comfortable but I hope you know that I’d never ever wear this out” Arthur rolled his eyes at him, letting Francis sit beside him. 

There wasn’t much to do in here, the room was rather cramped. Once Alastair and Griffin went off to Uni, the bedroom situation would change. For now, Arthur shared a room with Conor, one of the twins, and Alastair, who made his life a living hell. Arthur slept on a bottom bunk so his mattress was narrow and he wasn’t allowed to keep a ton of books or model ships in their room since they took up so much space but one thing that he kept near his bed was his beloved radio.

Arthur’s father, he and Peter shared a biological dad, had gotten him a little blue radio for Christmas when he was six. He taught Arthur how to change the channels and sang along with him to the old sixties songs that played. They bonded over music but sadly, they had almost nothing in common other than that. 

Art looked to Francis, shifting around to grab his radio. It ran on batteries so the power outage didn’t affect it. He pulled he antenna out, turning it on “What do you wanna listen to, Franny?” “I don’t know, surprise me” 

Arthur turned the knob around, trying to find something worth listening to. Francis laid down beside him and by the time Arthur found a station that played french music, his friend had fallen asleep. Arthur found himself blushing as he watched, brushing Francis’ hair out of his face. 

Thunder cracked and Arthur felt a bit protective, turning the music up just enough to drown out the rain “There...Sleep well...frog” Arthur tucked him in and ran his hand through those beautiful blonde locks. He groaned a little to himself...Feelings were hard. He left his room with a deep red blush, stomping back to the kitchen table to pretend to read. He thought of his dear friend’s peaceful, sleeping face and his pretty hair and his rose shampoo- ugh! He glared down at the algebra in front of him, angry at himself for allowing himself to feel this way in the first place. 

The little, blue radio sang its french tunes for a few hours until Mr. Bonnefoy was came to collect his children. Angelique was covered in Peppa stickers and Cheetos dust, Peter had a secret stash of snacks beneath the basement couch, and Francis was woken up to groggily put his shoes on. 

“Papa! Papa can we turn the power off tomorrow too?” 

“No, Angelique, we want the power back on. Come on, Maman is getting pizza”

Arthur listened as Angelique whooped excitedly and Francis said goodbye to Mrs. Kirkland “I’ll bring Arthur’s sweater back tomorrow after school, I’ll wash it” “That is so sweet of you, Francis!” The two chattered I’m for while until Mr. Bonnefoy cut in, thanking them again and taking his kids back home. 

Arthur finished his homework, doing as best as he could in the dark, and ate his cold dinner. He excused himself to go to bed early since there wasn’t anything to do without the power.

He laid there late into the evening, listening to soft, French music until his brothers told him to shut it off


	2. August 10th, 1985

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beware the lavender lotion. Leave your radio for your lover.

Saturdays were usually the days where Arthur would make his way across the street to the Bonnefoy household to help Francis with his English homework. 

That’s a bit of a lie considering the fact that they usually just sit on Francis’ bed, practically laying on each other, and doing their best to procrastinate. Arthur was a great student! And Francis did well for the most part but being at school all week was quite tiring and by the time Saturday hit, the pair liked to lounge around.

Arthur had his backpack with him. He’d brought cookies, his radio and a book that he’d found in the locker room earlier on in the week. He thought Francis would get a kick out of it and some proper reading practice when though he was seventeen now and didn’t technically need it as much as he did years before. 

Arthur knocked on the door and heard a cry from inside. “Don’t come in! I can’t let you see me like this!” “Francis, garçon, let Arthur in! It’s chilly today!” “Maman, tell him to go away this is horrible!” The door flung open anyways, Mrs. Bonnefoy standing there in her...Extremely tall glory. Arthur craned his neck back a little to smile up at her awkwardly “Uh...I can go back home if Francis doesn’t want to-“ “Oh no, ami, Francis is being ridiculous. He’s hiding upstairs, go on and see him- take off your shoes, s’il vous plait!”

Arthur quickly kicked off his shoes and hurried upstairs. He stood outside of Francis’ door for a few minutes before poking his head in. His friend sat under a heap of blankets, only his eyes showing “Arthur, I can’t let you see me right now” 

“Are you nude?” Arthur heard a muffled grunt of annoyance “C’mon! What’s the matter? It can’t be worse than when you threw up in my back yard that one time!” 

Francis narrowed his eyes. Arthur shut the door behind him, coming over to sit beside him. He slowly pulled the covers off of him, blushing a little since it felt weird to be undressing him even though that wasn’t technically what he was doing. 

Once the blankets were off, Arthur felt a pang of guilt “Oh love...What happened?”

Francis’ arms, neck, face and legs were all broken out in a patchy, red rash. His Frenchman flopped back against the pillows “I apparently have an allergy to lavender....I didn’t know. And I found a very expensive lavender lotion and put it all over and this happened! And it itches! And it stings! And it looks ridiculous! I’m going to have to wear a turtleneck to school! I wore one last week, I can’t wear it again! And then-“ 

Arthur cut him off, cupping his cheeks to bring him forward “Hey. It isn’t anything to worry about. You still look fine to me” he offered a lopsided smile. Francis rolled his eyes a little before pulling Arthur into a hug. 

They actually got to work studying, for once. Arthur was in charge of smacking Francis’ hands away when he itched “You’re going to make it worse! Quit itching!” “But it itches so much!” “It will itch more if you continue scratching!”

Hours passed but it didn’t feel like that long. The sun was setting when the two decided to pull Arthur’s radio out. They tuned it into a talk show, listening and laughing along. Together. 

Arthur wrapped an arm around Francis and Francis planted a kiss on his cheek. No one had to know...This was their secret. This was their time that they could spend together, shut in from the world around them. The little romance they had wasn’t necessarily new, it had been growing throughout the years, but on weekends they held hands within the comfort of Francis’ comfy bedroom. They’d share meaningful gazes, little touches and occasionally, quick pecks on the lips but nothing more. Not yet at least. 

The talk show was drowned out as the pair whispered little compliments to each other, leaning into the other’s warm touch. 

Their night, however, was cut short as always. Mr. Kirkland called from across the street for Arthur to come back home. 

Art packed up, stealing one more kiss before leaving and calling a quick “Don’t itch!” Over his shoulder before disappearing out the front door.

The little blue radio sat in Francis’ nightstand...Intentionally left behind, not that he knew. He found himself flipping through channels until he found one that suited him. He laid there, resisting the urge to scratch his skin off, distracting himself with thoughts of dancing the night away with Arthur to a lovely Prince song


	3. June 17th, 1988

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not the Beatles. They don’t set the mood.

Arthur and Francis were alone for the night. Arthur’s parents had taken his brothers to the movies while Arthur had feigned being sick. Francis snuck in through Art’s bedroom window and now was sat in his lap. They pressed hotly against each other, gasping for air between kisses and moans, running their hands all over each other’s exposed skin. 

Arthur’s little blue radio played softly from the nightstand beside them. Art listened to the Beatles whenever he could and that’s what played now. ‘All you need is love’ coming to an end and ‘Revolution’ beginning. Arthur could feel Francis’ lips curl in distaste against his own but he chose to ignore it for at long as he could.

“H-hey- Arthur” Francis pulled back a little. Arthur chased his lips, pressing their mouths back together again. Francis grunted Arthurs name again into their kiss, pushing him back a bit “A-Amour, listen a moment! I can’t fuck to the Beatles, can you turn the channel?” He asked breathlessly, wrapping his arms back around his boyfriend’s neck

Arthur raised a brow at him, panting a little “W-What? Whats that supposed to mean, the Beatles are lovely” 

“Non, Arthur, all you ever listen to is the Beatles! Can’t we listen to Queen? Or what about Van Halen? Your brothers love them” Francis pleaded, reaching over to turn the channel. Arthur grabbed his hand and started to wrestle with him. He rolled on top of Francis, his lover laughing as he pried his hands from Arthur’s “Hey! Come on! I’m so sick of listening to Jim and George and Jackson!”

“You don’t even know their names!” Arthur scoffed, narrowing his eyes at him “I thought the Beatles set a nice mood” 

“No, they certainly do not. Maybe they did that one time in your car but I’m so sick of them, they’re overplayed!” Francis shook Arthur’s shoulders a little “If anything, they ruined the mood” 

Arthur got off of him, sitting up and crossing his arms “As if ‘I’m In Love With My Car’ wouldn’t ruin the mood too. You listen to Queen all the time! And they’re quite overplayed as well!” 

Francis huffed and slouched into the pillows “I can’t fucking believe you’re arguing with me over this. We have two hours together and instead of just turning the Beatles off to have some fun, you’re going to fight me over it” A deep blush spread across Arthur’s cheeks “Shut up!”

The Frenchman took his shirt and pants off, kicking them off of the bed to slide beneath the covers “Francis, what are you doing?” “I’m going to bed, what does it look like I’m doing?” Arthur huffed louder, kicking his pants off, throwing the sheets aside to get under. He reached over Francis to turn the channel on the radio, soft jazz taking the place of the old English band. 

“There, are you happy now?” Arthur asked, flopping back down next to his boyfriend. Francis pulled the sheets up and wrapped his arms around him “Mhm, I am happy. Because I’m with you” “Shut it- stop smirking like that! You always get your way!” “I know” 

They held each other close throughout the night, pressing loving kisses to exposed shoulders while gossiping about fellow students and teachers, the mood from earlier thoroughly ruined by John and George and...The other Beatles 

Francis never ended up going home that night, the two fell asleep before Arthur’s parents got home. 

His mum came to check his temperature, saw the two together and chose to leave them alone instead of waking them. She smiled fondly to herself, turning Arthur’s lights off before silently closing the door behind her. Jazz continuing to play.


	4. November 7th, 1995

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dance, dance, dance!

A certain Englishman stood off to the side, watching in amusement as his boyfriend danced around the kitchen. Prince’s ‘Party Like it’s 1999’ played louder than it should at nine in the evening, their neighbors would complain. The walls were rather thin. 

Francis was dancing like there was no tomorrow, like the world was going to end and he had to have a dance-off with the devil. His hair was in curlers and his robe billowed around him with ever spin and hip movement. His glass of wine threatened to crash to the floor any minute...They wouldn’t be getting their deposit back on this damn apartment

“Say say two-thousand-zero-zero party over! Outta time! Woo! Yeah!” Francis spun around again and finally caught Arthur watching “What-! Hey! You’re home!” He grinned and set his wine aside, striding over to grab Arthur’s hand, dragging him to the middle of the kitchen. “Come on! Dance with me!”

“You know I don’t dance! Especially not to this, it’s wretched” Arthur scoffed, shedding his damp coat as he allowed himself to be taken to the center of the kitchen.

“You have some Scottish in you! That means you have some sort of dancing gene in there somewhere! Come on, show me what you’ve got!” Arthur narrowed his eyes and swayed awkwardly beside him as Francis danced around, not having as much of a range as he did before now that he had his love’s hand locked in his own. 

Arthur side stepped his way to the counter where his radio sat, promptly turning Prince off to find something else.

“Hey! Quit it, I was listening to that!”

“Quit your complaining! I had a long night, let’s not give ourselves concussions!” He turned he little knob until he found a slow song, smiling over at his beloved Frenchman. Francis rolled his eyes and yanked Arthur back over. Arthur smiled at him warmly, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Oh lord, dance with me you old sap” he murmured fondly. Francis wrapped his arms around his partner’s neck and began to sway side to side, closing his eyes 

“I missed you today...” Arthur kissed the top of his head

“Yeah? Well I missed you as well. It was weird waking up without you here” Francis leaned into his hold, resting his head on Arthur’s shoulder “You should have gotten me up, I could have made you breakfast”

“It’s fine, I know you like your beauty sleep. Was up at six, I don’t think you would have liked getting up that early” 

Francis hummed in agreement, shrugging a little but staying quiet. He was enjoying their time together now that Arthur was back. Becoming a doctor wasn’t easy, you see. It required many hours and as little sleep as possible. The time put in was nothing at all the same as the hours Francis put into being a pastry chef. Usually he just made desserts for himself, ate them and then went about his morning. Of course he had classes and workshops to attend but nothing close to the capacity that Arthur did. 

Therefore, Francis missed his boyfriend very much and forced himself to stay up late to wait for him to come back.

There, in the kitchen, the two danced until they were even more worn out, taking the radio to the bedroom with them to play softly while they slept. Francis’ snores drowned the music out but it was still there. The radio did its job, continuing to play until it was turned off the following morning at six o’clock sharp, right after Arthur’s alarm went off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the short-ness of this one. Oh well! :)


	5. April 18th, 2004

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babies sometimes cry for no reason but tonight there is a reason!

The crying wouldn’t stop. 

Francis and Arthur had decided that it was time to adopt. It wasn’t easy, the Adoption and Children Act of 2002 made it somewhat easier for the couple to adopt but it wasn’t peachy keen at all. 

It took months for the paperwork to go through. Months of visiting the boys they wanted to bring home so badly. Matthew and Alfred were just babies when Francis and Arthur found them in the orphanage. Arthur immediately fell in love with them and Francis did the same once he was allowed to hold them. 

Now, after all of that work, came the parenting. 

Matthew had night terrors almost every night. They tried to separate the boys so Matthews screeching wouldn’t wake Alfred but the twins became very restless when they were away from eachother. So now, at the wonderful hour of four in the morning, Matthew was screaming.

Matthews screams woke Alfred and now the Kirkland-Bonnefoy household was filed with the symphony of cries as it was almost every night.

The couple sat up and turned their lamps on, staring at eachother. Both parents had dark, eye bags, eyes still foggy with sleep. They stared for awhile longer until Francis raised a hand. Arthur did the same” 

“Rock...Paper....Scissors...” Arthur used ‘rock’ and Francis used ‘paper’, winning for the first time in three nights.

Arthur groaned and got up, trudging down the hall to where the babies cries came from. The crying now set the dog off from downstairs, only adding to the noise. As usual, Arthur picked up Matthew first, taking him over to Alfreds crib to gently rub the other twin’s back until he fell back asleep. Alfred was very low maintenance after all. Art took his other son to the corner of the room, plopping himself down into the rocking chair there. His old radio sat on the babies’ windowsill where it would occasionally play the Beatles, until Francis heard and turned it off. 

Matthew kept up his crying as Arthur turned it on, managing to find a Beatles station. He could practically hear Francis scoffing from here but he didn’t care. Matthew liked the Beatles. The crying softened until it was just soft whimpers as the baby listened. The sweet sound of ‘P.S. I love you’ played softly beside them, Arthur humming along. 

They listened to three or four more songs until Matthew finally fell back asleep. Arthur returned him to his crib, kissing the top of his head and tucking him in for the night. He left the radio playing just a tad louder than before so both babies could hear, yawning as he made his way back to to his own bedroom. 

Francis was snoring away as usual, his hair all over the place. Arthur made sure he was tucked in too, curling up beside his husband to sleep...Which was much needed. 

The radio, as it always did, played all night long into the morning. Alfred and Matthew didn’t cry for their parents when the sun rose, instead they sat up in their cribs, staring at the blue radio, the paint faded from years in the sun and the sound a bit crackly. But the babies loved it. They bounced and listened, smiles on their chubby faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have gotten the English Children of 2002 act thing wrong but eh, it wasn’t essential!


End file.
